Devilishly Good!
by SonataAllegro
Summary: Arthur was a Devil, a Demon. He liked wreaking havoc on the world. So why was he falling in love? Was that even possible? And why did he like it so much? Bittersweet SweetDevil!AU USUK


Devilishly Good

Arthur was in his own personal Hell. Which for some people might sound terrible.

But not him.

Because, you see, Arthur was a Devil. A Demon. A creature of Hell.

And it was _awesome._

To be a Devil was to give in to all the temptations, all the gluttony, all the sodomy and the greed. And he didn't have to feel bad, because it was all encouraged by the big guy.

And how he reveled in his … not-life. He spent his time on the ground wreaking havoc, causing accidents, and stealing shiny things out of windows just because he wanted them. He juggled his seven deadly sins well. Seven _daily_ sins, more like.

Arthur could honestly say that he found just as much fun six feet under the ground. Maybe it wasn't _really_ under the ground—it was more like another dimension, a place for only them. And, truth be told, there was never much suffering down in Hell. It was like a big city, full of debauchery and sin. The Las Vegas of the Afterlife. Psh, Angels were missing out.

Because, down where Arthur lived, he didn't have to hide himself. There, his hair was fire hydrant red instead of a disguised blonde. There, his horns pointed out, black as night, and little wings appeared, when he willed them to.

In the underworld, he was powerful. He didn't like calling it Hell, some did, accepting the truth, but they were bitter about it. Truth be told, being a human was more hell to Arthur. Now, he could _indulge_.

…

The thing about being …dead… was that it was kind of lonely. Under the ground, there weren't many relationships. Friends weren't necessary—most Devils were more likely to hurt you than support you, and the concept was practically lost. There were people to talk to, sure, but—knowing Devils—they only remembered conversations if it benefited them.

Devils were selfish.

And romance was just the same. Nonexistent. Really, love was a _virtue_. Disgusting.

But _lust…_ oh, _that_ was there. That was always there.

Lust seemed to be a constant around a… certain Devil. If Arthur had paid more attention, he would have remembered that this Devil's name was Alfred.

But that wasn't very important. When Arthur looked at him, he didn't think about his name. No, instead, he thought about the un-natural jet-black hair, and the perfect, chiseled body that lay underneath. And those, blue, blue eyes.

He thought about holding onto those curved horns as he rode him as hard as he could. He wanted nothing more.

The best part was, he could have what he wanted. No one around would be regretful for their actions, anyway. All it would take was a simple "Fuck me," and he would have his wish.

And have it he did.

…

Within the first five minutes of their meeting, they were getting naked. If there was ever a time to rejoice in his semi-evil state, it was then. Because, while Demons were usually attractive, Alfred was possibly the best-looking one he had ever seen.

Their tongues twisted together, pointed teeth clashing and they were moaning and writhing and—Oh!

Alfred didn't waste any time. He was inside him a little bit before Arthur was ready, but he obviously didn't care. Arthur didn't care much either. He liked the pain. They fucked then, for a while, hours even. This was perfect. This was everything he'd wanted.

But then, something strange happened. They were almost there, close to the peak. It wasn't their first round, but this time was… different.

This time, Alfred looked into his eyes, fierce blue meeting sharp green. This time, he took care of Arthur before he was pushed over the edge. When they were done, they didn't pull apart and go about their own affairs. No, this time, they stayed wrapped up in the sheets of Alfred's sinfully comfortable bed, wrapped around each other. It was like something came over them there, holding each other tight, almost in possession. The kisses came like water from a fountain, excited and frantic, and they fell asleep together.

It wasn't just on a physical level that things were strange. It was worse than that. Because Arthur felt that feeling, warm in his chest. That wasn't lust. That was… _impossible_.

But if it was so impossible, why did he like it so much?

…

In the hours since he had woken up, very much without a certain Devil, Arthur had concluded that something was very wrong with him.

These feelings that he seemed unable to shake were just so… human, so pure that it made him sick. The lust hadn't gone away, in fact, being with Alfred had made him want the Devil even more. But this gooey, butterflies in his stomach feeling—it needed to go away. Crawl up and die somewhere, because it wouldn't be tolerated.

Love.

It didn't make sense. Love was a distraction; it made him _think_ about what he did. Did he really want to cause trouble in the world? To hurt? To… sin?

Of course he did. He was a Devil. But, now, he was…lonely. Even more now,

…

Arthur _didn't _think of his bed-mate when he was "above the ground." Definitely not. Because that would mean that he enjoyed more than the sex. And he didn't. Alfr—that Devil meant absolutely nothing to him. Nothing, really.

In order to stop thinking about it, Arthur decided to wreak some havoc. He was in some large city, American, judging on the language and accents he heard. From the swearing, yelling, and honking, he concluded that he was in New York.

Here, people didn't see him as a Devil. No, he was just another nameless face. His red hair returned to his natural blonde, and there were no horns or wings in sight.

Hmm… what to do? He could cause a car pile up, set fire to something… So many options…

"I would release all the animals from the zoo, but that's just me."

Arthur wasn't startled by the voice. It was familiar, only different, because it wasn't all deep and husky from—

"I'm Alfred. I didn't know if you knew my name." This wasn't happening. Alfred was obviously in disguise too, masquerading in his human form. The black hair returned to blonde as well, and Arthur couldn't honestly say which color he preferred. Also, he wore glasses. That was different.

"I do. Know your name, that is. I'm—"

"Arthur, I know. So, yeah, go for the zoo. Imagine a lion running around New York."

This _was_ happening. Could it be that Arthur wasn't the only one who was harboring strange feelings?

"I suppose it would be humorous."

"Humorous? Try hilarious! Two zebras walking down 5th avenue? A monkey in Rockefeller plaza? That's fucking gold, Artie."

"It's Arthur." As he corrected him, Arthur couldn't help but notice how… familiar Alfred seemed with his surroundings.

"You're from New York." It wasn't a question.

"Yes, I lived here until I… didn't." His face soured at the end of his sentence.

He was breaking the rules. A Devil isn't allowed to visit places that they'd been before during life. It wasn't really enforced, because the personal punishment was bad enough. Truth be told, everyone did it once. And the memories of people, of feelings, and everything else was just too much. The one time Arthur had been to London, he had returned within five minutes, in tears, and no Devil had cared enough to comfort him.

"How can you—"

"I like to remember New York. I like to see where I was happy, you know."

"I was happy in London, until I—" It was too hard to say.

Alfred sighed. "I wasn't here when I— you know."

"Oh." That might have made it better. Maybe. But still, there was something different about Alfred.

"Yeah."

"Alfred?"

"Mm?"

"Why are you here?"

"Same as you, I guess. I need to make some mischief. Get my mind off things."

That was it. That was why Devils did what they did. They wanted to forget, after all. Most people took advantage of their lives on Earth. They became so focused on themselves, personal success, personal gain, pride, that they ignored the real reason to live. For the good things in life. For others. For love.

And now, it was their job to create the problems of the world, because they did it long before they were six feet under.

And maybe they played it off as nice, but really, how much could you indulge before you're tired of it?

"Get your mind off what?" He was curious.

"You." He smiled a little, and disappeared into the crowd.

…

Arthur didn't have to wait long for Alfred's next visit. He returned to him the very next night, and they fell into bed once again. It wasn't as fast, not as hard. It was almost…sweet how Alfred treated him. It felt like…they were making love.

It was still strange, but when Alfred gazed into his eyes like that, how could he not feel good?

…

When Arthur awoke, Alfred was still with him. His head, covered in black hair, was curled into Arthur's neck and shoulder, and he had a tight grip on him under the blankets.

But when he opened his eyes, bluer than anyone's Arthur had ever seen, he _remembered._

…

January 7th, 2009. Heathrow Airport. Of course it was crowded, terribly crowded. And even worse, it was snowing. The most London had seen in a while. So everything was landing in emergency, flights were delayed, and Arthur was stuck.

Apparently, the storm was worse than he'd thought.

He heard wailing children, shouting people, and saw some airport officials trying to calm people down.

"Ladies and Gentleman, we apologize, but all flights are on delay until further notice. Nothing is taking off, and planes are making emergency landings here. Please, do not panic."

Fed up, Arthur walked to the restaurants to get something to eat. He noticed a couple dozen men, Arthur's age and older, ordering food and waiting on line.

They weren't in uniform yet, but all of their shirts said "US AIR FORCE" on them.

He saw a particularly young man checking his pockets, apparently in vain, for money.

"Aw, c'mon! Now? I'm starvin'." He asked a couple of his army mates for cash, and none of them had any to spare.

Arthur felt a little bad. This guy was as stuck as he was, and he was probably being shipped off to war. Terrible.

"Here," He handed him some cash.

"Huh? Oh, thanks so much, man." He clapped him on the back, too hard. Military men.

When Arthur looked again to say it was nothing, he was taken aback. This American was gorgeous. Very attractive. Tall. Built like he was going to war, which he _was._

But best of all, he had perfect, almost too blue eyes to match his blonde hair.

He just waved his hand nonchalantly, but this soldier winked at him and smiled.

"Thanks again."

And then he walked away. Arthur didn't ever learn his name. He didn't fall in love, or have some romantic affair. His life wasn't a romance novel.

And even if it _was_, Arthur didn't have time on his side.

Less than a month later, he was _gone._

…

Arthur shot up with a start, and practically ran from the bed, ignoring Alfred's "What's wrong?" as he flew across the room.

How could he have missed this? How? He has seen Alfred's human disguise, and he didn't remember. But it all came back, rushing into his mind. He knew Alfred in his life. That's why he was feeling emotions. That's why he was…acting alive.

This was not supposed to happen. He was supposed to leave his life behind, forget, and accept what he had become.

"Did you remember?" He jumped as he heard Alfred's voice, felt his touch, and when he looked at him, he wasn't sure if he was looking at Alfred the Devil or Alfred the Human.

"Yes."

"Then you feel it too, right?"

He knew exactly what the Devil was talking about.

"Yes."

"When we first… I just, _felt _something. Something other than a selfish thought, and then I couldn't take my mind off of you. When I saw you in New York, I remembered."

"I—Alfred, we—" He was speechless.

"But I got selfish again—I am still a Devil, you know. I had to have you again. But when I saw you again, I couldn't just think about myself. It was _different_ last night. I felt human again. Alive."

Arthur understood. He felt alive when he was with Alfred too. When he saw him in New York, it was like they were two people meeting on the street. He felt more and thought more than he had in a while.

"I know it sounds crazy, but I think I love you." Alfred blinked, as if he couldn't believe what he himself had just said.

And Arthur responded, over and over as he laid claim to Alfred's body, marking him with bites as he took him.

…

So there he was. A Devil in love. Go figure. Not much had changed. He still caused his mischief and indulged in too much pleasure, lately, more lust than anything else.

He wasn't automatically an angel for falling in love. That's not how it worked. He always seemed to be with Alfred, always, and now that there was no denying their feelings, their love grew a little every day.

And since Devils were so selfish, no one took notice.

It turned out that being a Devil wasn't too bad. Sometimes, things worked out okay, despite the situation. Sometimes, love found a way to connect people, even after their time was up.

And that, _that_ was something worth dying for.

END

A/n:

So yeah, um… this isn't really a SweetDevil! AU because it's a little more bittersweet than sugar…

But I wanted to do something a little different with it.

Yay!

Manda


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